


Fire with Fire

by Artifiction



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce, PIERCE Tamora - Works
Genre: Dajory, F/F, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artifiction/pseuds/Artifiction
Summary: Jorality had always felt that the best kind of fight was the sort where even losing was a way to win.
Relationships: Daja Kisubo/Jorality Bancanor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Fire with Fire

_1045 KF_

_In the city of Kugisko, in Namorn._

Their breath steamed in the chill morning air, bare feet padding on the floorboards as they circled. Jorality Bancanor —  _ No, it's Jorality Pepperkiss, now _ — had grown into the promise of beauty that Daja had seen in her, half a lifetime age. She'd grown into strength, too. Her rolled-up sleeves hugged forearms once slender, now wiry with muscle from six years in the roughest kitchen in Kugisko. The heavy walnut staff she held in her hands matched the golden brown of her skin. She'd once been clumsy, but now, it moved like an extension of her body. 

The first blow came from her. Between one step and the next, her arms flexed, and the end of the staff whipped towards Daja's face. Daja blocked it, but she didn't swing back, not yet.  _ She's quicker than a storm off the Syth. If you're not careful, she'll have you on your back with her staff at your throat before you can blink. _ It had been high praise from Heluda Salt, and it meant Daja needed to take the girl's measure before risking a counterattack.

The staff came at her again, once, twice, three times. High, high, and then a wicked thrust at her ribs. Daja blocked twice, and slid out of the way of the thrust. The tip of the walnut staff kissed a button on her tunic as it whispered past. _Heluda was right, she's quick._ Daja slid forward, the motion taking her inside Jory's guard. Her own staff, ebony capped in brass, came with her. _I'm quick too._ Coming in so close, she didn't have room for a swing, instead drove the brass into Jory's stomach. 

Or she would have, if Jory had still been there. Instead, she'd rolled her weight onto her back foot, out of comfortable reach of the jab, and carried the motion another step back. Daja grinned, and followed in with a second strike, this one an overhead blow. She'd expected Jory to dodge, but instead her staff came up in a resolute block. The blow would have been enough to jar the staff out of the hands of a weaker opponent. Daja's grin broadened. 

"If I'd known you'd gotten this good, I'd have come back to Kugisko sooner."

Jory's brown eyes glittered with equal parts pleasure at the compliment and the exhilaration of combat. She said nothing, which was more proof than anything of how much she'd changed, and slid out of the block. One hand came down, the other up. Walnut  _ whistled _ as it came. Daja chose to retreat, taps from her own staff directing Jory's blows away as the younger woman drove her back across the floorboards of the storeroom.

She took the moment to look at Jory,  _ really _ look at her. Since Daja had returned to Kugisko, she'd mostly seen Jory at a distance, in furs, surrounded by the steam and bustle of the kitchen, or dressed in finery at the Mage's Society. They'd never had time alone until now. She was only a handspan shorter than Daja, a difference made up by a cloud of caramel curls held atop her head by a struggling ribbon. The entirely proper wool skirts she wore had been hitched up, gathered, and twisted cleverly to keep them out of the way as she moved. The trick also left an  _ alarming _ amount of golden legs bare, something Daja was only noticing now.

The point of Jory's staff struck her in the shoulder, and Daja blinked, hurriedly stepping back, her gaze sweeping up to meet Jory's eyes. There was a wicked grin on the girl's lips, and her staff never stopped moving. 

Daja ran out of space to retreat a moment later. The pace of the fight had her heart racing and her cheeks flushed.  _ Focus_. Two quick jabs made Jory hop back, respecting the longer range of Daja's arm. Daja took the opportunity to shift to the left. When Jory followed, she retreated towards one of the room's corners. Having the wall at her side limited the right-handed Jory to jabs and swings from the left, a handicap that gave Daja room to breathe. 

Jory had technique and speed on her side. It was clear that she'd taken a true interest in staff fighting, and had become a true danger with it with Heluda’s help. But Daja had been fighting with the staff for twice as long, and had plenty of tricks up her sleeve. 

Daja’s heel bumped against the wall behind her, telling her she'd reached her corner.  _ Let's see how you handle this_. She sidestepped a thrust as if she was about to retreat along the other wall. The cook-mage took the bait and quickly stepped twice to her right, cutting off Daja's escapes from the corner. Daja didn't mind. The two walls at her back meant Jory could no longer use the powerful swings she favored, and Daja could deflect the jabs into the walls. With Jory's strength behind each of them, they left dents in the plaster, and jarred the length of walnut in her hands with each blow.

Skyfire had shown her this trick. Using terrain to limit your opponent's range, making them exhaust their grip against it. Her palms stung with the memory. When Jory went for a low thrust at Daja's knees, Daja raised her foot, and drove the staff into floor with her heel. Jory cursed and leapt back. Daja struck. 

Being a good staff fighter meant being efficient, and not wasting time blocking blows that were going to miss. Daja made her motion wide and sloppy on purpose, swinging her staff too high. Jory, shaking out her lead hand, ducked low enough that it would pass over her head.

The brass cap brushed curls before sweeping back to guard. Jory came up with an exhaled 'ha!'. The poor ribbon that had been struggling to contain her hair gave up its bounty, and a tide of curls descended around Jory. The 'ha' became a yelp and a hasty retreat. Ever-helpful, Daja followed after, and shoved her staff between back-pedaling legs. Jory went down hard, air puffing out of her as she landed. She managed to hang onto the staff, but Daja's foot came down again and pinned the length of walnut to the floor. Jory released it rather than have her fingers pinched, shaking her head to clear her eyes of curls. 

When she did, she found Daja standing over her, staff resting at her throat. Daja grinned down at her former student. "Surely  _ Viymese _ Salt taught you that you shouldn't go where your opponent wants you." Daja’s heart was still hammering. Jory slowly came up on her elbows, lips quirking. Daja had expected her to be sullen or indignant in defeat. Instead, she seemed almost... pleased. She gazed up at Daja unwavering, the glow in her dark eyes making the smith feel very odd. If she hadn't been distracted by it, she might have pulled her staff back faster when Jory surged up off her elbows and grabbed it. Daja hadn't been expecting it, but tightened her grip instinctually. Jory's weight came back down, and Daja pitched forward, trying to step over Jory to keep her balance. One long golden leg had threaded itself between her ankles while she'd been distracted, and it tangled her. 

Jory let go of the staff as Daja began to fall towards her, hands coming up to catch her falling opponent. Terrified it would land between them and break something, Daja sent it clattering away along the floorboards, bringing her palms back just in time to strike wooden floor on either side of Jory as she landed. Her world vanished into the golden cloud of curls just above Jory's left shoulder. Her palms felt hot where they'd struck the ground, but she hardly even noticed. _M_ _uch_ hotter were the  _ other _ hands which had caught her shoulders as she fell and now twisted together behind them, making it impossible for her to rise. She was very, very conscious of Jory's legs, which were continuing to twine around hers.

"And yet, here you are." Jory's voice was a whisper in her right ear, close enough that she felt the brush of soft lips against her earlobe. Her nose was full of the scent of smoke and vanilla, face held firmly buried in that bed of curls. She'd meant to try to use her own hands to push away, but the way that Jory's legs were running along hers had given them a mind of their own, and they'd settled on Jory's hips. 

Daja's mouth felt very dry. This was  _ not _ how she'd pictured the fight ending. She expected what came next even less. Jory's ankles had locked just behind Daja’s knees, and with a twist of her hips, she  _ rolled _ into Daja. If her traitorous hands hadn't been more busy discovering the muscle of Jory's hips than supporting her on the ground, Daja might have kept her place on top of her. Instead, with a yelp, she went over, hair whirling around her, back pressing into the wood, hands clinging onto Jory's side. The wrists that had been twined behind her neck ran down her shoulders, bringing a cascade of heat as they went. Daja's vision swam out of the endless curls. Jory's face was between her and the lights above, and the tumbling locks surrounded it, framing her in a halo of gold. Daja's heart lurched. The glitter in Jory's eyes had become a hunger that made every inch of Daja ache with need. The full lips which had brushed her still-tingling ear were slightly parted. Daja was relieved to see that Jory was breathing hard too. It would have been  _ profoundly _ unfair if the effect didn't go both ways. 

For a second, Jory seemed to hesitate. Her hands had come to rest onto Daja's own trembling set. Daja could feel Jory's warm palm against the living metal on the back of her hand, goosebumps spreading on her skin as Jory guided her hands to rest firmly on her hips again. There was a question in Jory's eyes, the first hint of uncertainty — _ Have I guessed right, have I ruined everything, do you want this too? _ — and Daja answered it, pushing from her shoulders to bring her lips up towards Jory's.

That perfect mouth curved into a smile, and curls descended all around her again, dimming the light as Jory's mouth pressed against hers. Daja’s head spun at the heat of it. In its fire, the tension in Jory's body seemed to melt away, strong muscles going loose as she sank down to press herself against Daja. One of Daja's hands dared to escape Jory's loosening grip, tracing up her back to at last run through the golden hair, slipping under the masses of curls to keep the other girl in the kiss.  _ Yes. I want, I want, I want. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the Tamora Pierce Discord for suggesting the Daja/Jory fic and helping me brainstorm mage names. Set in 1045 KF, six years after Daja last visited Kugisko.
> 
> I’ve dubbed this ship “Dajory”. If you know anyone else who’s writing it, or write some yourself, let me know! I’d love to read it.


End file.
